


Merry Fuckin' Christmas

by buffylovesfaith



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Banter, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Post-Episode: s07e22 Chosen, Secret Santa, just some cute holiday fluff!!!, sexy talk, they're married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 22:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffylovesfaith/pseuds/buffylovesfaith
Summary: Faith raises a brow smoothly. “It’s tradition. So...whadaya say?”“You want to kiss me, Faith? Now? Do you see how many dishes I’m holding?”“It’stradition,” Faith stresses.Buffy’s mouths quirks. “You’ve never cared about tradition before.”





	Merry Fuckin' Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bjarka99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bjarka99/gifts).



> For Bjarka99 for Secret Santa!! One of their requests was "Buffy and Faith post S7" so I decided to make it a Christmas fic because it's Christmas! Hope you like it!

“B!” Faith reaches out and grabs Buffy’s forearm. “Check it out.”

“What?” Buffy looks around wearily. Her arms are piled with dirty tableware and bits of hair are coming loose from her ponytail and falling into her sweaty face. 

Faith glances casually up toward the ceiling at the sprig of mistletoe that Buffy had hung up in a fit of holiday cheer, or what Faith likes to call Santa Time Possession. 

Faith raises a brow smoothly. “It’s tradition. So...whadaya say?”

“You want to kiss me, Faith? Now? Do you see how many dishes I’m holding?”

“It’s _tradition_ ,” Faith stresses.

Buffy’s mouths quirks. “You’ve never cared about tradition before.”

“Hey, I’m Catholic! By birth. I mean sure, the whole “respect your elders” even if they’re fuckin’ sick sons of bitches, and dirty old priests pervin’ on everybody, and making you think you’re going to hell if you like girls was never really my bag—come to think of it that shit was pretty twisted—but I guess some things just stick.” She pushes her lips out in a pout. “You’re not gonna kiss me, B?”

Buffy sighs with fake exasperation. “Oh, all right. C’mere.”

“Wow, really giving me the romantic treatment here, B. I might pass out.” 

That’s when the old competitive light in Buffy’s eyes switches on and she practically leaps forward, just managing not to break glass all over the floor as she drops the dishes on a nearby chair. Her hands come up to rest on the sides of Faith’s face, where she strokes the soft skin while simultaneously holding Faith’s head in place. Her lips touch Faith’s softly, one, two, three times, and then she plunges her tongue into Faith’s warm mouth. Faith moans and grabs Buffy by the hips roughly. Their breath is minty from the peppermint hot chocolate. Buffy kisses her fiercely for several minutes, then lightly bites down on Faith’s lower lip and pulls away, Faith echoing a low _mmm_ after her. 

Faith’s panting. “B?”

Buffy smirks. “Happy now?”

Faith grins. “Well, actually, I was hoping I could get a happy in the bedroom if you know what I--”

“--I know what you mean. But not right now.” Buffy leans forward and kisses Faith hotly again. “ _You’ll just have to wait,_ ” she whispers, breathing against Faith’s mouth. Then she pulls away, speaking in a normal voice. “We have all these dishes to do.” She gathers the china and walks to the kitchen, swaying her hips a little. She put on a good show. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Faith hisses, standing stock-still in the hallway. Her wife would never stop being a hot, kickass, super hot, sexy, badass tease and that was reason enough to believe in Jesus, or Santa, or whoever the fuck else was in the business of granting wishes this holiday season. Faith felt like getting on her knees but _thank you for my tantalizing wife_ didn’t seem like good enough of a prayer somehow. Maybe some of that indoctrinating had stuck around after all. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas.”

“Eve, Faith.” Buffy pokes her head out of the kitchen, determined to still have the last word for tonight. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas Eve.”

*

Buffy moans and stretches as a patch of sunlight hits her square in the face. She turns to look at the clock, frowning when she sees 6:45 a.m.. 

Faith growls and swats her lightly on the stomach. “Quit moving.” She goes to bury her head back under her pillow.

“Faith…,” Buffy rubs a hand over Faith’s back. “We have to get up.”

“No,” Faith grunts.

“Yes,” Buffy says decisively, tugging the pillow off of Faith mercilessly. “Everyone’s gonna be here in like three hours! We have to clean...decorate…. I have to get the turkey in!”

“That won’t take three hours,” Faith mumbles sleepily. “M’only gettin’ up if we can squeeze in a quickie….”

“No we can’t! And yes it will, Faith! Come on, get out of bed!”

Faith doesn’t respond. She had planned on staying in bed for at least another hour, but when Buffy’s stopped talking after Faith’s silence, she’s suspicious. Not that she’s worried, of course, but...it’s just not like Buffy. 

She raises her head to see Buffy chewing on her lip anxiously, her face creased in worry. “B? What’s up?”

“Nothing….”

“Come on,” Faith reaches over to lightly pinch the flesh on Buffy’s inner thigh, causing her to jump. “Tell me.”

“I’m just,” Buffy huffs out a sigh. “Nervous. This is my first Christmas.”

“Your first Christmas? I don’t see you sportin’ a shitty diaper and crawling on all fours, B.”

Buffy wrinkles her nose, then rolls her eyes. “My first Christmas _hosting_ , F.”

“What about last year? When I was your... _present_ and you unwrapped me and ate me out under the tree?” Faith says in a smoky voice, grinning. “I seem to remember you being a pretty good hostess….”

Buffy blushes darkly. “My first Christmas hosting _everybody_ , okay?! Jeez….”

Faith studies Buffy’s face for a few seconds, then darts forward and quickly kisses her on the mouth. 

“Okay, I know what you need. One sec.” She walks out of the room in her loose white sleep shirt and boxers, and swiftly returns holding two steaming mugs, just as Buffy’s finishing pulling on some jeans. 

“Here, take a sip.”

Buffy does, at first enjoying the taste of hot chocolate, then nearly choking at the strong aftertaste of liquor.

“What the hell is this, Faith?”

“Hot chocolate,” Faith says innocently. “I made it for you, babe.”

“What’s with the...alcoholicness?”

“Oh, I spiked it. Nothing like an Irish hot chocolate during the holiday season, huh?”

“Faith! I can’t get drunk! I have to cook dinner for like eight people!”

Faith rolls her eyes. “Relax, B, it’s not that much. And it’s good for nerves, trust me.” She picks up her own drink and starts gulping it down.

Buffy narrows her eyes, taking in Faith’s slightly unsteady hand and the pace at which she’s downing her beverage. “Hmm...and why do you need one? Are you nervous? I know this is our first Christmas with everyone coming over, but you don’t have to be nervous, baby….”

Faith jerks the cup away from her face. “I’m _not_ nervous, B! What the hell...are you serious?! Why would I be nervous?! I’m _not_.”

Buffy blinks. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

Faith frowns. “I’m serious.”

“I know, baby.” Change the subject! “Hey, did you see those matching theme sweaters I got for us to wear…?”

**Author's Note:**

> More to come!


End file.
